Someone to be Good For
by Zellcan'twrite
Summary: The Doctor returns for seven-year-old Amelia Pond. AU from the Eleventh Hour; oneshot. Major fluff warning!


When Amelia Pond woke up, she had no idea where she was or what was going on.

For one thing, she was much warmer right now than she'd been when she last remembered. She'd been waiting for the Doctor outside, and he still hadn't come. It had been cold, but he'd promised to be right back.

So she'd stayed outside. She was tired, and hungry, and it had been nearly twenty-four hours, but she'd stayed. She _had_ to stay. Any chance to get out of her giant home, away from the crack in her wall and all the empty rooms, was a chance worth a wait as long as she'd been waiting. Besides, he'd promised.

But even a seven-year-old's faith wasn't infinite. Amelia was beginning to wonder if her raggedy Doctor would be coming back for her at all. She'd decided she'd wait until the next morning, then she'd give up. Perhaps something bad had happened to him. Perhaps he was trying to get back to her but couldn't. So she had waited, even though it had been so very cold.

But now she was warm again. She was warm and she was _moving_.

She shifted slightly, keeping her eyes closed. Yes, she was definitely moving, as if she were lying on a wave out at sea. She'd never been to the sea, but she definitely knew how she imagined it to be. And this was pretty close. Slow-moving, peaceful, and quiet. Too quiet to be a wave, perhaps, but still quite pleasant. Even so, there was something not quite right. Her still-groggy mind tried to put her finger on it, but she found out that she couldn't.

Hang on. There it was. Her suitcase was gone.

She opened her eyes, then squinted it at the sudden onslaught of light. The golden glow was nothing like she'd ever seen before. It was a bit like a house light, or perhaps even the sun, but this light was so much warmer and brighter than house lights. It even felt a little bit…alive.

And then she realized she was being carried. That was the feeling of moving. Someone was carrying her, carrying her to who knows where. She had no idea who it was, but she suddenly realized that she felt very, very safe. Maybe her raggedy man couldn't come back, but someone nice had found her. Someone friendly had her now.

And then she heard the voice.

"Welcome to the TARDIS, Amelia Pond."

It was a soft sound, probably only for his benefit rather than her own. But still, she knew that voice. She'd been waiting to hear it, after all.

"Doctor?" she asked, not daring to believe it.

"Oh! You're awake," he exclaimed, not breaking his stride. "Hello, Amelia! So sorry it took me so long. I overshot your time a little bit; ended up in 2010 in London. Well, I had to get _that_ fixed, didn't I?"

"But you came back," she commented, looking up at where the voice was coming from to see his face. Yes, it was a kind face, if a bit funny-looking, and now it was smiling down at her.

"I said I would, didn't I?" He reminded her. "But now, you're cold and tired and probably very hungry. So I'm going to take you to bed and bring you some soup."

"I thought you only ate fish fingers and custard," she pointed out. After all, if he only ate that, she would probably only be eating that from now on. Actually, she didn't mind. Her raggedy doctor had come back for her; any weird diet was worth that.

"Perhaps I do, but the TARDIS reminded me that human children generally don't," he responded.

"The TARDIS?"

"She's my ship."

"The police box."

"Yes," the Doctor replied.

"We're in a police box?"

"It's…no ordinary police box."

"It's bigger on the inside," Amelia commented, looking around at the ceiling. She didn't know for sure, having never been in a police box previously, but something told her the ceiling was far too high and the light too bright for it to be a regular police box.

"So it is," he replied, giving her a smile. "Much, _much_ bigger. Even I don't know how big it really is."

"Can I explore it?"

"Of course you can. In fact, that might be fun!" he visibly brightened at the idea. "Perhaps I can come with you, even! It's been a while since I last explored my TARDIS."

Amelia went quiet after that, just drinking in the feeling. Oh, how _safe_ she felt. There were no cracks in her wall here. No huge, empty rooms in a house too large for one little child. No nagging feeling that she was missing something. Perhaps this ship was large, larger than her home, but it didn't feel as though she and the Doctor would be swallowed up any second.

"Ah, here will do nicely!"

The Doctor's voice roused Amelia as he gently pushed open a door.

"This is an empty room. Well _was_ an empty room. Now it's your room, if you want. It can be any way you want. Perhaps I can install a hammock. Hammocks are cool. Or I could paint your ceiling like a star map! But we'll get to that later, shall we? Now let's get you to bed."

He set her down gently on the bed, where she immediately set to taking off her shoes.

"I'll bring you some soup. In the mean time, you go ahead get to know your room. It's _very_ important to get to know your room."

"Alright," agreed Amelia, green eyes following her new friend to the door. As soon as he'd closed it behind him, she slammed her head against the pillow and just simply smiled. She could explore later, she supposed. For now, this was all she wanted to do.

The Doctor had kept his promise to her.

* * *

The Doctor hadn't had a child on the TARDIS.

Oh, He supposed he knew how to care for a child. he'd been a father, of course. And a grandfather, too, many years ago. But Susan had been a teenager by earth standards by the time she'd come onto the TARDIS, more than twice Amelia's age physically. Vicki and Dodo had been young, yes. Adric and Nyssa and Zoe had been as well. Why, Victoria was _very_ young, only about fourteen or fifteen, when she'd gone with him to the stars. But that had all been so long ago. And none of them had been seven years old. None of them had been that young.

Could he handle caring for her? He supposed he could. Amelia Pond was no ordinary little girl. He'd seen a spark in her, a spark which would one day probably bloom into the bright flame of whatever made certain people the perfect companions.

Well, even if he couldn't handle a child, she was on the TARDIS now. He had no idea what would happen next. What he did know, however, was that he would never, ever make her wait for him again. He didn't have to test her faith in him. She'd trusted him to come back. He'd prove to her that her trust wasn't misplaced.

He was her Raggedy Doctor; he'd closed the crack in her wall. Perhaps he could be something more now.

* * *

"Do you think your aunt will mind if you're gone?" The Doctor asked.

Amelia shrugged. She was now propped up by her pillows, having some of the best soup she'd ever had in her life. Her boots were neatly lined up next to her door, and her coat was in the closet, but the rest of her suitcase was unpacked. She would do that tomorrow, maybe.

"I don't think she will," she replied. "She's not around a lot."

"Who takes care of you, then?" The Doctor prompted.

"I do." The matter-of-factness of that statement tugged at a chord in the Doctor's hearts. _No child should have to act that calmly about looking after themselves at the age of seven, he thought ruefully_. If he knew anything about children, he knew they thrived on attention and love. It appeared little Amelia didn't get much of either.

"Where are your parents, Amelia?" he asked her softly, watching for a sign of sadness or loneliness in those big green eyes of hers. Nothing. She just shook her head.

"I lost them," she explained, still using that proper tone that suggested nothing was wrong.

"Everyone needs to have parents," the Doctor protested mildly.

"I don't," she replied. "They're lost."

"Lost," he echoed. Interesting word choice. _Lost._ That implied she had parents, somewhere out there. Goodness knew where. Perhaps she didn't even know she had them in the first place, but she definitely had them somewhere.

"I'll find you your parents," he promised, taking one of her small hands (the one not holding the soup spoon, thankfully) in his own larger, long-fingered hand. He hadn't noticed until now, unused to this new regeneration as he was, how long and bony his fingers were. Perhaps it was just the comparison to Amelia's own little hand that made them appear that way. "I'll make sure they're not lost."

"What if I don't have any?" she asked, voice suddenly very small. "What if you can't find them?" _There_ was the fear and loneliness. The Doctor had a sudden urge to pull her into a tight hug and tell her it was all going to be okay, but, fearful of the soup on her lap, simply went for squeezing her small hand reassuringly and giving her another bright smile.

"Of course I'll find them!" He declared. "I'm the Doctor. Finding parents comes with the job!"

She smiled back at him at that one, just a small, shy smile, before letting go of his hand and continuing on her soup.

"But in the meantime, you still need parents right now," he mused aloud. Then, shaking himself from his thoughts and looking back at her, his eyes brightened once more. Perhaps this was what this regeneration was going to be: bright. He didn't have a problem with that. "Tell you what, Amelia Pond. For now, _I'll_ be your parents!"

"You can't be," she pointed out, the feisty side she'd shown clearly in the kitchen just a short time ago manifesting once more. "One person can't be 'parents.' You could be my dad, but not my parents."

"Well, I'm no ordinary person, Pond. I'll be your parents and that's that," he declared.

She looked up at the Time Lord, a bit of reservation on her face, but in the end she gave in and seemingly accepted it. She'd already realized that this strange, raggedy man was no ordinary man, but she knew she could trust him. Strange as he was, he made her feel safe. She'd just have to go on that feeling. The two of them sat in silence after that, Amelia finishing her soup and the Doctor watching her, a gentle expression on his face. He was officially back in the parenting phase of his life. It was a feeling he'd missed so badly.

Soon enough, the girl finished her soup and set down her spoon, covering a yawn with her hand.

"Now then. It's time for you to get back to sleep. You've got a big day ahead of you," the Doctor declared, taking the soup bowl and setting it on the nightstand.

"But I'm not-" the protest was cut off by another yawn, prompting a laugh and a hair-ruffle from the Doctor.

"Goodnight, if this is night. There's no real time on the TARDIS, so you can sleep whenever you want to. And now you want to, so goodnight."

What would parents do at bedtime? He wasn't exactly certain, but supposed Gallifreyan children and human children had about the same ritual. Reaching down around her head, he gently fluffed up the pillows and then tucked the sheets around her, wondering if he was doing it right.

"Sleep well, my Amelia Pond," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Goodnight, Raggedy Doctor," she mumbled sleepily in response, closing her eyes and relaxing against the pillow.

Collecting the soup bowl, the Doctor quietly left the room, the TARDIS quietly dimming the lights behind him.

The fact was, he thought as he walked down the hallway, he needed this child aboard. Someone to be good for in this brand new regeneration. Someone to love and to care for.

And perhaps, someone who would love him unconditionally, just as a child would.

* * *

**Author's note:** _I'll be the first one to admit it took me a long time to like Matt Smith's Doctor, and even longer to like Amy Pond. However, from the very beginning, I had a special fondness of the scene at the beginning of 'The Eleventh Hour' when Eleven crashes in little Amy's garden. Even now, I always like Eleven best when he's around children. They just bring out a magical quality in him. _

_Anyway, this idea popped into my head a while ago when I wondered what it would be like if seven-year-old Amelia were to be Eleven's companion instead of adult Amy Pond. In this AU, Eleven moved his TARDIS through space as well as time, then managed to make his way back to Amelia a night later instead of several years later. A little cheap, I know. If I end up fleshing out this 'verse at all, I might come up with a better reason._

_I had a heck of a time writing Eleven's dialogue; he, Ten and Four are probably the hardest Doctors to write for. There's something so alien about him..._

_Enjoy, and please review! _


End file.
